


every wave and undertow

by egelantier



Series: drabbles and flashfics [62]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, Service Kink, Slice of Life, Triple Drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:27:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22789462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/egelantier/pseuds/egelantier
Summary: He erases every bit of disorder, chases away every speck of dust and every smudge of fingers. Noct, spread in the tangle of blankets in the other room, the hem of his pajama riding up to expose a slice of his pale stomach, will wake up to his living room spotless and Ignis nowhere to be seen.
Relationships: Noctis Lucis Caelum & Ignis Scientia
Series: drabbles and flashfics [62]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/625589
Comments: 6
Kudos: 23
Collections: Fics from the Basement





	every wave and undertow

Ignis does his best to keep his cleaning quiet. It's a familiar task to him, working around Noct sleeping in the other room. Sometimes he bangs and clanks with intent, letting Noct know that he should be up. But today, in the overcast light of rainy day seeping through the curtains, it's easy to be benevolent. He moves around on noiseless feet, enjoying the sheer unobtrusiveness of his presence, and picks up Noct's scattered clothes with his ungloved fingers, touches the worn softness of discarded t-shirts with a reverence bordering on caress.

He erases every bit of disorder, chases away every speck of dust and every smudge of careless fingers. Noct, spread in the tangle of blankets in the other room, the hem of his pajama riding up to expose a slice of his pale stomach, will wake up to his living room spotless and Ignis nowhere to be seen. 

Sometimes it pains him, annoys him, angers him. Today he’s at peace, knowing that soon he'll slide into Noct's throat with a glass of cold water left on a freshly-spotless counter, touch Noct's skin with the softness of pristine towels, be under Noct's bare feet padding across the gleaming floor. He'll be everywhere at once, necessary like the air Noct breathes.

Today, tomorrow, a string of tomorrows. There are times they stay together - and talk, and quarrel, and Ignis advises, and harangues, and cajoles, and pleads - but this quiet morning, with Ignis moving around like a ghost, with Ignis infusing every waking moment of Noct's life with his presence, is for him only.

He lays out Noct's clothes, each item washed and dried and ironed and straightened by his bare hands. He'll be gone before Noct wakes up, won't see Noct put them on, but he will know. 

It's enough.


End file.
